Lessons
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: Belle, the Dark One, has decided to instruct her slave Rumpelstiltskin on some much needed teaching in the workings of love. Maybe one shot. It all depends.


_A/N: Hello all! Quick note this is smut, all smut, smut, smut smuttily smut with a capital S. I wrote it as a little birthday present to me when I came home a few days ago from vacation. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUaT. *weep***

**~8~8~**

Golden rays of late evening sun cascaded merrily from small arrow slits of windows that were carved out of the upper stone walls of the Dark Castle. Oblique slits of light rested upon the warm, gray stone at Rumpelstiltskin's feet like a line of fire denying him further progress.

The former spinner shifted nervously from foot to leather clad foots as he stood in the dreary shadows of the corridor normally forbidden to him. In his months in the Dark Castle after he struck a deal with his mistress Belle, he had only been down the corridor a handful of instances and only four had not evoked her hair trigger wrath upon him and sent him scampering away in terror of her.

Worn hands clasped tightly before him, the slave of the Dark One stared down at the porous grains of illumed stone and dust that gathered at his feet as snow in the winter. The tip of his boot busied itself making little patterns in the ancient grime whilst he awaited his mistress as she had ordered when he had been cleaning her precious library.

Belle only allowed him down the ominous hall that led to her bedroom when she 'wanted' of him. Of course, the choice had been his to perform such acts, but he had agreed long before. She detailed his duties to him that cool autumnal night in his pathetic hovel with his son resigning his fate to meet death leagues away from home.

Bravely, though that was not how he thought himself, he had made his choice to save his people from ogres and save his son from the knights who sought to drag a 14 year old boy who never so much as wielded a pitchfork in his life to the front lines to stave off mountainous, barbaric ogres who were bred for battle.

Frightened as he was, he knew his choice. Her demands had been simple ones: serve her forever and when she wanted another to warm her bed he was to be that someone. She had not demanded some perilous quest or to even surrender his son over to her thralldom to which he was grateful. If she wished for him in bed along with tending to her castle then it was a small price to pay. Or so he convinced himself.

A lump of cowardly fear and anxiety formed like a boulder in his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sweat streamed from the nape of his neck in stark terror. Horror shivered through his body as though a frigid wind had struck is gangly figure. Last night was the foruth time she had beckoned him to her quarters. He had made love to her though he shook like a leaf with every moment locked in the throes of passion, but he had pleased her to a degree.

She never seemed exactly satisfied when he rolled off of her and scrambled away like a beggar caught stealing, his head down and humble as he snatched up his worn, but well mended clothes and waited to be dismissed, but she never snapped upon him or mocked his truly novice prowess in bed.

The only terrifying question remained then was what did she desire of him in the late afternoon instead of night before he was to go back to his cell as she usually did.

"You're nervous, Rum," the voice belonging to his mistress observed almost teasingly. Magic wafted through the forlorn corridor to exclaim the arrival of the Dark One. Power crackled upon the wind like a surly dog then died away leaving a crawling feeling upon the slaves flesh.

The former spinner flinched as though he voice were a poisoned lash flaying his back. She often stated how much his cringing annoyed her, but when she snuck upon him like a master thief it was all in his power not to sink to his knees and cower with arms drawn up over his head. His eyes closed and his arms rose as though to protect himself from a blow, yet none came.

Daring to open his eyes he turned to find her staring at him. A small smile etched the Dark One's lips as she stared humorously at her slave. Nary a hint of malice radiated from her luscious form that pulsed with puissant power as sometimes was the case. When she wished to bed him there was never truly a trace of the dark, evil being she could be, something he was vastly grateful for, but still and air of danger surrounded her like a rotting stench that could not be overlooked.

"Forgive me mistress." He ducked his head in respect, his words mumbled as he stared hard at the floor. "It's just when you call me to your chambers…."

"You think me in the mood to bed you," Belle finished easily. A small smirk stole upon her lips as she placed a hand gently to his shoulder.

Her newly acquired slave had been a weed of a man when she had plucked him from his drafty hovel and away from rags and near rotting meat him and his son ate. He had been malnourished and had deep hungry eyes that wallowed in pain and melancholy. Bedding him would have come months ago, but he had been so thin and wane and hungry he had needed to gather strength and energy from labor and hearty meals.

The former spinner flinched involuntarily at her touch as though her palm was a poisonous viper, but dared not jerk away. Insofar his strange mistress had been a multitude of emotions, but whenever she ordered him to her bed she was oddly gentle, her words crooning and soft as though to comfort him and banish his nervousness. Out of everything he did not dare wish to blunder her good humor when she asked him to bed her.

Nodding her head she flourished her hand though the air making her door swing open with little more than a creak. "Very true," she confirmed his silent, but obvious thoughts tenderly. "I do wish to seek pleasure but there are things we must…discuss." Before the spinners could chalk up the courage to inquire just what 'discussion' his powerful mistress desired she goaded him into her dimly lit room. "Come." The Dark One prodded to her slave. "I want you on the bed like we discussed before."

Obedient, if not wholly frightened and confused, Rumpelstiltskin padded hastily over to the large, lavish bed. It never did well to keep the mistress waiting and with his restored leg she healed with her dark magic, he had no excuse to dawdle or linger to gauge what she had in mind.

A sigh silently brooked past his lips as he seated himself upon the silver silken covers over the goose down mattress. The bed let out a muffled creak of wood, but no more as he got modestly comfortable. Her bed, nay, any bed was better than the old pile of rotting straw he was granted in his fetid cage.

Immediately he undid his dark cloth breeches and began to toy with his length. She had made it decidedly clear when they were beginning to make love she wanted him at least semi-erect before she even slipped under her silvery satin sheets. In no uncertain terms when she wished to find pleasure she was not keen on waiting for him to 'come up' as she termed it once with a sinister chortle.

Closing the thick oaken door with a bang, the beauty slowly meandered to a window covered by thick satin drapes of blue that denied the light of the winter sun in her mountain palace. Only a few rays of light managed to peek in from the edges giving the room just enough of the honeyed light to see.

Silence reigned like a thick shroud for moments upon end that seem to drift by for eternity to the slave. His heart throbbed erratically in an errant tattoo that refused to still as he beat his member. Strong fingers curled over the soft coverlets beneath him to keep his hands from trembling whilst the other prepared himself. What did she want him for, what had he done?

"How many times have we made love, Rum?" The Dark One did not turn to him but stared at the velveteen draperies.

Rumpelstiltskin gulped to force down the quiver in his throat. "Four times, milady," came the wary reply thankfully not in a frightened squeak.

Four times he had crawled atop her and bedded the woman he called mistress and four times he felt lucky she had not lost her temper or toyed with his mind in the way he knew she was more than capable of.

"And each time has been the same," she stated casually without a hint of anger or accusation. "You do not make love, my spinner, you rut like some beast with nature as its goad to continue their species. It is without passion, without skill, without the burn of lust that shrivels all thoughts away to ash."

Casting his head down in shame he feigned interest with a speck of lint on the luxurious, plush carpet under foot. What did she think would be the outcome of a spinner who could scarcely afford to do anything but work to bring a few meager coins? He was little more than a novice in the ways of pleasure. He had only bedded Milah twice, once on their wedding night and the other that sired Baelfire.

Swallowing hard he forced himself to speak. "Forgive me my mistress, but I am not knowledgeable in other means."

"So I surmised," Belle chuckled lightly as she finally turned to him. Mischief burned like coals in her indigo eyes, making his mouth dry. "Which is why I shall teach you, Rum. Teach you everything."

"Teach?" He echoed in confusion, his brow furrowed ponderously.

Traipsing towards her slave the dangerous beauty tossed her umber head. "Yes, I will have to teach you the proper ways of pleasuring me for all your days." Wandering closer, the Dark One stroked the straggly tresses of his hair almost with a fondness. "I shall instruct you in new ways you have heard of only in exotic stories. You shall learn how to provide pleasure with your tongue and fingers and find hidden spots of a woman's body to make her screech with delirious joy. As time goes by, my Rum, you will learn to gauge what I feel when I wish to romp about the sheets with you and reply accordingly. In here you will be more lover than slave. You will spill your seed into me no less than two or three times a night, every night as I teach you. Very soon you will be the most knowledge in all the realms how to please a woman."

Her words, though part of him loathed to admit it, made his blood catch aflame something so far his own ministrations had not be able to achieve. Already he felt his manhood shift eagerly at her words, but still trepidation curled an icy, possessive claw over his frail heart.

What if he failed to bring her the pleasure she sought? Would she find another and discard him as trash like everyone in his life had? At the thought, he felt a jealously take him he had never known. Though he was unsure to think of another thrusting inside her was infuriating.

"Our first lesson, my Rum, will be the mouth." Belle straddled her luscious legs so that she was pressed against his semi-erect manhood. Her slender arms wrapped about his neck to keep her in place as her eyes stared deeply into his own.

"There are many things a mouth can do and just as many places to kiss," she continued once she was certain his heart would not break free of his chest with her maneuvered as she was upon him. He barely dared to touch her even so close to his person, but his wariness would fade in time. "The lips perhaps the most popular to some but they can provide more pleasure than you possibly know."

Chocolate brown eyes fallen from his owner, his voice was quiet and subservient. When he had come home to Milah with his injury she never kissed him again. Belle had wanted to be kissed but they had been closed, fearful kisses of a coward. "You wish me to kiss you, mistress?"

"Not like last time." Belle refuted gently not to frighten her spinner. An amused smirk twitched upon her lush pink mouth. "The last time you kissed it was less than arousing. Next time slide your tongue into my mouth. Don't be afraid to explore."

Do as she did? Already his mistress slid her tongue into his mouth as he shared tenuous kisses, but he had been so terrified to react in kind. For her to say she wished for such surprised the wary slave to no small degree.

"But that's not our main concern." Her fingers began to unbutton her always bright crimson tunic. His eyes widened as she allowed the garment to fall away reveling two perky breasts. "Here will be one lesson learned my Rum."

Silently a hand found the back of his head for leverage. Her spell clever fingers wove through his brown locks until she reached his scalp. Her breasts practically bounced for him as though coaxing him near.

For a moment he dared a glance, wondering if she truly meant for him to….At the though he licked his dry lips like a parched man with the sight of water nearby. He had heard soldiers talk of such things, but he never thought….

"Go on." She ordered softly more than declared, her tone husky with want. "Let's put that mouth of yours to good use."

Warily Rumpelstiltskin bent his head towards her heaving chest. His lips kissed the perky bud of her left breast. Almost in some inner instinct his lips latched on the erect, pink nipple and suckled the precious bud gently.

A coo of delight tumbled past her lips as she ran her hand through his hair. Her hips began to grind into him, brushing against his manhood and causing the member to twitch. Head tossed back to allow him better access, she gave instructions to arouse more pleasure. "Use your hand on the other, pinch and pull and knead and use your tongue to flick the one in your mouth."

Obediently, he lifted a hand to her disregarded breast. His warm tongue circled the nipple caught just past his teeth. His moist tongue flicked the bud teasingly and laved the nipple with silent praise whilst the other hand gently pulled at kneaded the other one which seemed to beg aloud for attention.

"Don't be so gentle." She reprimanded through a tight moan that slipped from her lips. "You'll soon learn I prefer love making of the roughest sort. I'll have you going like a prized bull in a few weeks leaving us both with bruises in places we didn't even know we had. "

At her words the Dark One's slave needed no second bidding. His teeth slightly pinched the nipple as his hands rekindled their treatments with rough handling. In the years he had been a spinner his wiry fingers were strong and flexible and certainly made certain the other breast was well attended with enough pain to evoke stronger pleasure.

Groans of abject pleasure flew from Belle's lips as he kept up his ministrations and she explained other things of note while he attended her chest. "A man does not always need his prick to pleasure a woman. His tongue and his fingers can serve well."

"My tongue?" He released her nipple momentarily, his mouth quirked in surprise. Shock alit his weathered features as he stared at his owner. "I…I have seen tavern whores service men with their mouths behind the inns but I did not think…."

Belle cocked her head to the side curiously, her brow perched minutely. "Think what? A woman could not be equally as pleasured or that a man would not get on his knees to service a woman?" Abruptly she caught his chin in her hands as she slipped from his legs. "You will be doing so, Rumpelstiltskin. You will discover how to please me with your mouth when I'm in no mood for your manhood pounding against me. Like I said there are many ways to please a woman and you will learn them all."

Wordlessly, as though still in disbelief, the former spinner rose as his mistress sat on the very edge of the bed. A half a hair more seemed she would tumble, but kept her precarious balance. Her leggings were nowhere to be seen revealing a hairless nether region spread open lewdly.

Dropping to his knees as though an intangible force pushed him down, his eyes stared at the wondrous paradise between her thighs. He had found release and pleasure there that he had not known in years for Milah had been the only one that accepted a coward's manhood in her. Not even tavern whores would have bedded him even if he had the coins for such services.

"You look good down there upon your knees ready to service me." Belle grinned almost warmly as a sudden through that sent her heart thrilling bloomed in her mind. She petted his head like she would an obedient animal. "You're my whore, Rumpelstiltskin; my own private whore."

Blood sprang to his cheeks in a fierce blush at the title. First coward and now whore. But she was right in some ways, he was a willing whore; he was her whore kneeling as those women did in the dark as men thrust their members in their mouths.

Gulping in nervousness Rumpelstiltskin took a deep steadying breath and dove in. The scent of her sex was strangely intoxicating to his senses that burned only to please her in any way he could. Already wet pearled upon her as he tenuously began the foreign ministrations. His soft tongue lapped exploratory at her entrance as though to get a taste of her. The taste, while warm and exotic, sent his blood galloping through his veins like rabid horses. Without even touching his manhood he could feel his member erect as ever, pressed against him.

His exploration was rewarded with a slight mewl of approval from his volatile mistress. "That's it…." He heard her through a moan as he slipped past her slit.

Encouraged by her praise he pressed a finger into her as well. The position was awkward to say the least, but the way she crowed as she balance from lapping to strong, yet wary strokes of his fingers along her most sensitive areas proved he was a fast learner and well worth the strange position.

His fingers and tongue worked in tandem to provide the utmost pleasure to the woman who held his life and death. Her wet squelched about him the rougher he became with his ministrations. He hearkened intently to her moaned instructions as he worked the new found skill of whore-dom.

Drowned in ecstasy, the beauty combed her hands through his dirty brown hair. Her fingers entangled in his dirty tresses as she bucked as best she could against his strong fingers and tongue. "My you certainly learn fast my Rum." She managed past a strangled groan.

The slave merely nodded in reply, much to preoccupied to give an oral response. She was a good teacher and the reward for learning went both ways as his member, screaming to be touched, testified.

Harder and harder he pressed and probed and stroked until he knew she was close. Her body quivered beneath his mouth and fingers as he delved into her core and wrought bliss to her luscious body. Part of him felt proud to know he would make her reach her peak without use of his length. Part of him felt proud he was her whore.

"Enough," Belle growled suddenly to keep the tremor from her tone.

Fear sparked in the slave's timid heart as he reluctantly removed himself from her sopping core. Had he not been giving her what she sought? Was he truly not good enough? His fingers twitched to ease the ache in his loins but he dared not touch himself least she give him permission.

Her azure eyes pinioned upon his with a lustful fervor immediately dispelling the notion he had not been doing a fine job. Finger curled over his brown linen tunic she hauled him atop her as she wriggled farther upon the bed.

Breath rattled haltingly from her mouth in wanting gasps that belayed her lust. "You've done quite well, but now I want something more."

His eyes found hers fearlessly, blue staring into warm brown. "How would you like me to…?"

"Hard, my Rum." She shifted and grinding against him in direst need. "Hard and rough."

Heart leaping like a racing doe the spinner needed no second bidding. Without thought, without consideration he grabbed her hips and plunged himself fully into her velvet heat. Glorious liquid fire enveloped his manhood as he stopped only when his body refused to go deeper into her. The thought that his saliva and her juices now coated him brought a shock of pleasure he had never known. In that moment he felt more beast than man.

He enjoyed pleasuring her, he enjoyed being her whore. At the thought his manhood twitched crazily inside her.

Gasps of pain mingled with pleasure tore from Belle's lips as he speared into her. Her wet walls undulated about him in burning desperation to fit his length inside her. Agony and bliss welled all at once inside like a tide of hot and cold water meeting in a fearsome clash of a gale. Eyes fluttering she wrapped her legs about his waist to get him deeper. In another moment he would have adjusted into her, but he wasn't keen on waiting and neither was she.

For the split moment he was in he was out again. Wiry, strong fingers curled over her hips, he thrust with all the strength he could muster into her. The length of his manhood twitched with the cold as he pulled out his entire length only to pin himself all the way in in the next heartbeat. His thrusts were hammer blows to her scorching sex, demanding to be sated and to sate her.

With every thrust he put his anger and lust and passion and love behind each motion. Being a slave made him angry, being away from his son made him angrier, and being a coward made him furious, but being her whore made him almost feel transcended. In that moment he found the mixture of anger and passion that grew from a dull orange ember to bright flickering flames that engulfed them in lust.

Grunts, almost bestial and primordial, fell haphazardly from his lips as he put all his effort into every driving thrust. Sweat dripped like waters from their bodies to sop the silvery sheets rustling beneath them and her cries mingled with the creaking of the bed sounded of the loveliest of symphonies to their ears as they mated like wild animals.

Her arms wrapped around him to keep him close. Her fingers dug deeply into the flesh of his sinewy back till he felt her pierce the skin with her manicured nails in delirious pleasure. Blood brooked down his back, but he cared not of the vermillion ichor, only of the pleasure her pain wrought to him.

Fingers curled so tightly about her waist part of him knew there would be bruises. A chuckle nearly escaped his lips at a sudden though. The bruises would not matter; there purpose would show him where to place his hands the next time he made love.

Looking down upon his mistress as he rutted with her, he reveled happily in his wonton thrusting to see the twinges of pain twitch upon her lovely features and the bliss glisten in her orbs. He did that to her. Her whore made her feel pleasure.

The thought was enough to push him over the edge of all pleasure. Determination glinted in his eyes as he grit his teeth. With one last barbaric thrust he spilled his pearly seed deeply into her belly.

A cry of pain mingled with pleasure escaped her lips in a banshee's screech that mildly deafened him. Back arched into him she hit her peak from his release. Her nails dug viscously in his backs leaving scars that marked him forever as her whore.

Lust veiled his eyes to see her so blissful and delighted. She seemed almost in a different world with him bringing her to her limit. The sight of her was beyond beauty. He wished to keep that look upon her face forever, to keep his name running from her mouth like a mantra as she grinded into him.

His erratic thrust continued each harder than the last as he forced her orgasm on and on and on. Part of him would not stop, not until she screamed for mercy of an everlasting orgasm. Part of him wished she would pass out from pleasure

Not until her voice was nearly hoarse from screaming did he pause.

Sweat trickled from his temple and dripped from the ends of his tresses as he finally paused his thrusting. His arms wobbled on either side of her precariously, but he did not dare lay upon her, nor did he draw his manhood out of her wet. Both knew they would be ready to go again soon. Passion had never flared so brightly between them and neither wished to have the pleasure that took their ills away gone so soon.

"How did I do, mistress?" He averted his eyes again now that the rise of pleasure dwindled.

Gulping to catch her breath from the shrieks she flicked a bead of sweat from his cheek. A smile of approval drew across her lips. "You will come along nicely so long as you remain such an attentive pupil."

"I'll try my mistress," he promised in a solemn oath that he clung to with all his heart. Being with her was better than being a coward. In the small space of time he was no longer a coward or a slave, but her whore. "Believe me," he murmured to his owner once again. "I will try."

~8~8~

_A/N:_ _I might continue this, might not. Of course there would be other 'lessons' to teach but a story needs more than smut if'n you ask me so if the bunnies decided to abduct me again there could be continuing chapters. On another note, I might be the only one, but I'm not liking this whole 'Lacy' deal. Call me a creature of habit, but I just want Rum/Belle and no silly 'this is who I am now MOAR DRAMA Belle'._


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